Tag Archives: blogging
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Death to the Spoon Gnomes!

20 May

Is it just me, or do microscopic gnomes sneak into your kitchen at night … and steal all your spoons?

Because each time I clean my dishes, or open my kitchen drawer, I find less and less of this very necessary utensil. Not only does this happen to me, but my boyfriend suffers as well. He quietly revealed to me last week that all his spoons have been disappearing, mysteriously.

I feel like whipping out my old, investigative reporter hat, and following the clues. Because this question is driving me berserk:

What happened to all the spoons?

oh-no

After nights of lost sleep and cortisol-filled panic attacks, I’ve come to one, discernible answer.

It was the gnomes. 

The evil spoon gnomes. And they all must DIE.

How dare they sneak into my house, without my permission, and take my hard-earned silverware while I’m asleep! They fool the cats, they trick the dog.

But worst of all, when the spoon gnomes strike, you can’t sip soup. Or eat cereal.

Or consume ice-cream.

NOOOOOOO!

nooooo

So, my friends, I implore you. Spoon-lovers of the world unite! And death to the spoon gnomes!

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If only life were this easy …

17 Apr

Chester on couchI know, right?

I guess this is what I get for spoiling my cats. By the way, meet my gray tabby, Chester.

Maybe I’m finally understanding what my parents felt like during the weekends, working their asses off while I laid in their bed, watching Dirty Dancing every freakin’ day.

But seriously, don’t you wish your life were THIS EASY?

Yea, I thought so.

 

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The Secret to Getting Treated Like Royalty … FOR ONCE

13 Mar

If you’re freakin’ tired of being pushed around by your boss, or spouse, or just life in general, then you could use a little royal treatment. Right?!

So … if you wanna get treated like royalty for once, become a juror.

Oh, you think I’m kidding?

I just had my FIRST jury duty experience this week. Ever.

I was prepared to be spat upon, emotionally molested, and convicted of indecent exposure by nothing more than a raised eyebrow.

Then, of course, I reminded myself that I wasn’t on trial. This tends to happen with neurotic, overactive imaginations like mine. You get a tummy ache, and it’s automatically cancer, accompanied by imminent death.

But back to this whole jury thing …

30-Rock-Jury-duty

I finally read the back of my summons the night before my scheduled doom. And, to my pleasant surprise, I learned that jurors are the judicial equivalent to the Queen of England.

Seriously. First off, the courts opened 15 minutes early, JUST for the jurors. The security guards literally unlocked the doors, scanned the numerous desperate faces begging for relief from the bitter cold, then announced a special entry for “Jurors Only!”

All other infidels would need to remain locked outside, on the unforgiving concrete, until 8:00 a.m.

Upon entry into the palace, I learned that jurors are allowed:

  • Validation for free parking
  • Complimentary coffee
  • A breakroom and fridge JUST FOR THEM
  • Breaks any time they want
  • To bring their own food

That last item, that’s the killer part. Because no one else is allowed to bring their own food. Not police, not witnesses, not even lawyers. Only the jurors.

Should you happen to enter with a lunch box in your hand, the security guards will part ways and announce,

“Here comes the juror! Let him pass!”

royal-welcome-party

They even gave us a movie theatre.

And they didn’t play those crappy airplane movies, either. They showed Oscar-nominated films, people! From directors like Cameron Crowe and John Madden.

Oh yea, and did I mention how we got a personalized welcome from a JUDGE?

I think the next time I’m suffering from lack of self-esteem, I’m gonna show up at court and beg to be a juror. Because sometimes, we all just need a vacation.

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Is Your Blog the Equivalent to Long Division?

11 Mar

OK, writers … this one’s for you. Sometimes, you just can’t write about “passive versus active voice” anymore.

And—let’s be real here—there are only so many ways to reveal “the secret to getting more comments on your blog.”

BORING!

My blog stats proved it. They were pathetic. They were navel lint. Which is why, one day, I finally broke:

“F- it!” I screamed. “I’m doing a blog makeover! And I’m scratching all that professional crap. I’m going rogue.”

Today, I’m over at Lynette Benton’s blog, Polish and Publish | Tools and Tactics for Creative Writers. And I’m writing about the transformation of MY blog: “Why a Blog Makeover Might be Just the Thing You Need.”

So if you are anything like me three months ago—ridiculous blog stats and an online platform equivalent to long division—you just might want to head on over and read this.

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I Freakin’ HATE Waiting–Don’t You?

1 Feb

I may be the only writer who thanks her lucky stars she doesn’t live in New York.

Well … OK, I lied. I actually do fantasize weekly about accidentally bumping shoulders with someone like Anna Wintour (editor-in-chief at Vogue) while whimsically frolicking through the streets of Manhattan.

But what I’m talking about are the LINES. The waiting. Because I’m an incessantly impatient person who loathes nothing more than anticipating the end.

Maybe this is a bad thing.

check-out-line-wait

To be honest, I started writing this post a month ago, and can’t really remember why. So to complete it—because I owe you guys a blog rant—here are the top six things I LOATHE waiting for:

  1. Random crap at Wal-Mart. You can never just waltz into that place and buy your usual nail clippers, fish food, or hunting rifle. Because the checkout lines will hold you hostage for an HOUR. Yes, Wal-Mart will turn you into a desperate, neurotic Rapunzel.
  2. Oatmeal at Starbucks. I’m not sure if this only happens to me, but I always end up behind the slow-talker who doesn’t know the difference between a grande and a latte. C’mon dude! All I want is a quick, mini oatmeal to nourish my cells while driving to work.
  3. Rush hour traffic. It may not be creative, but don’t pretend you didn’t know this would make it onto “the list.”
  4. The cable guy. Because he can only make it at some indiscriminate time, like either between 7 a.m. and 10 a.m., or 2 p.m. and 6 p.m. … on the Saturday when your niece is getting Bat Mitzvah’d. I suppose this is why Seinfeld dedicated an entire episode to said scenario.
  5. My cat to pee. I’m dead serious. My beloved gray tabby, Chester, will NOT do the deed unless I’m standing over him, purring soft encouragements that “you can do it, go to the bathroom!” while he stares at the untouched, fresh litter as I’m running 15 minutes late for work.
  6. The outcomes of presidential elections. Because the very fate of my LIFE depends on who wins! And we all know if the other guy gets the vote, our lives will dissipate into a mess of foreclosures, rotting hair and the Black Plague.

What do you hate waiting for? I know there’s something just nagging at your brain.

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So Kim Kardashian’s Baby Bump is Showing; WHO CARES?!

25 Jan

As I logged into my Yahoo! account yesterday to check my very important and serious email … there were the words … bitch-slapping me across my tender cheeks:

Kim Kardashian’s Baby Bump is Showing!

[Pause ... for effect.]

When my eyes finally adjusted to the message, you know what words fluttered through my delicate brain?

300-KimKardashian-012413-jpg_173908

‘Who the f– cares!’

I mean, really. I’m not trying to be a celeb grinch or anything, but how many women become pregnant each year? I’ll tell you (yes, I actually looked this up):

In the U.S. alone, nearly 4 MILLION births take place each year, according to the Centers for Disease Control and Prevention. And that’s births. Can you imagine how many women actually become pregnant?

So Kim Kardashian’s baby bump is showing.

(Note: NOT “Kim Kardashian’s Baby is BORN,” or “Kim Kardashian in Custody Battle”)

Hmmm. To complement this fascinating, breaking, Pulitzer-worthy story, here are some other items that made headlines on Thursday, Jan. 24:

KIM KARDASHIAN’S BABY BUMP IS SHOWING!

excited-woman

Quick, grab the camera! Light a fire! No, sound the tornado sirens! Hell, make it a nuke warning! Close the movies, call the President … hurry, someone get me a pedicure! STAT!

Meanwhile, I demand a headline of my own: “Shari Lopatin Drives Car.”

**********************************************************************************************************************

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Pull My Finger: My Uncivilized Life with Boys

23 Jan

OK, so you HAVE to admit … wit on a woman is sexy. I mean, freakin’ hot.

Which is why I’ve embarked on my latest mission to find some hilarious chicas (and chicos, coming soon) on the blogosphere.

The first one is guest-posting for me today! And you know she’s funny, because Jenny Lawson (a.k.a. “The Bloggess”) reads her stuff. Heck, Jenny PROMOTES this animated momma on her blogroll … which is how I found her.

So meet Irene Barnett, who blogs over at Left of Plumb! When you’re done here, go check out her blog; you won’t be sorry.

Pull My Finger: My Uncivilized Life with Boys

GUEST BLOG BY IRENE BARNETT

Farting sign

I am not a girly girl.

I am the one my girlfriends come to when they want a male perspective on something.

My favorite roommates have always been men.

Males don’t have hidden agendas and neither do I.

They are simple, single-cell sort of organisms and I like that.

Anyway, just want to set the scene.

It was with a mix of ambivalence and horror that I approached the idea of having children. But, when I found out that my twins were going to be boys, I felt this made some sort of cosmic sense.

However, being outnumbered so drastically has taken its toll on me (even our pets – a dog, two African water frogs and one husband – are boys).

I firmly believe that my lowered estrogen level is actually not menopause, but some sort of environmental hormonal pollution that is sucking it right out of my ovaries like some bad sci-fi movie.

Here are just a few of the behaviors that I now realize I have low tolerance for:

  • Burping and farting are high art forms and if my children are the Rembrandts of both, then I am the Edvard Munch.

painting[For the love of God, light a freakin’ match!!]

  • The bathroom smells like a subway urinal … after a hobo convention … where they served asparagus and brussel sprouts.
  • They think their junk is fascinating and don’t understand why the rest of us don’t agree and want to view it every chance we can.
  • They can only do one thing at a time, and even that confuses them.
  • They are hygienically challenged. I’m not sure what half of the odors are that I smell or what part of the body they originate from, but I will probably go blind from it.
  • They are incapable of closing a kitchen cabinet door. If they could, the kitchen would just be shelves, hooks and an intricate pully system like something out of Wallace and Gromit.

Wallace and Gromit[OK, I take this one back as an annoyance. That would be SO cool!!]

The sole reason I don’t end up selling them on the black market is simply this: they are the only humans who understand that I am the absolute pinnacle of awesomeness. Somehow, despite their rather base behavior everywhere else, they are advanced enough to recognize this one truth.

And I’m not willing to give that up, no matter how bad that fart smells.

**********************************************************************************************************************

Irene BarnettIrene Barnett is a working co-parent of twin boys and a rescue dog. She currently makes the rent by assuming the identity of a high-powered executive for a software consulting firm that is based out of Seattle, while she actually tries to live the life of a writer in Santa Barbara, Calif. (
http://leftofplumb.com
). Irene loves paddleboarding, movies, sitting and staring, and shiny things. She hates chickens but has a soft spot for hobos.

Photo credits:

  1. ms_saggitarius89, 
    fart
  2. rustybrick, 
    Edvard Munch Google Logo
  3. patersor, 
    Wallace & Gromit

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Writers are Easy — NOT!

14 Jan

Not to be confused with “Earth Girls Are Easy,” a cheesy 80s flick starring Jeff Goldblum that I was THRILLED to find on Netflix … apparently writers are now easy, too.

Or at least, they’re trying to make us easy.

Who are “they,” you’re wondering? They are the companies that want to pay writers a few bucks for thousands of words per day.

Like this job shared by a pissed writer on LinkedIn:

“We are a Web Development/SEO company that hosts thousands of blogs and websites with a wide variety of different niches. Currently we are seeking a writer or two that is interested in writing articles from home and publishing them on the web.

We ask:

  • Be professional
  • Be Creative
  • Have a good work ethic
  • Be able to write 10-25 unique 500 word articles PER DAY

Articles are paid @ $2.50 – $3.00 per article.

We are located in North Phoenix, so you must be able to come into our office 1-2 times per week for a couple hours per visit.

Please send any written work you may have in your portfolio such as blogs you have written for, essays, and short stories.

We look forward to hearing from you.”

Pissed-offYea, F-YOU web development/SEO company!

Yes, I know that wasn’t very PC of me … but admit it. I screamed exactly what you were thinking, just now.

Because, for those who are horrible at math (like me), the above rates equal approximately $37.50 per DAY, for 7,500 words.

I know this current age of technology and web development has made writers like me more in demand … but c’mon guys. We’re humans, too! And hell, we’re far from easy.

FOR THE WRITERS: Have you noticed this type of trend developing?

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Welcome to My New (Crazy) Blog!

26 Dec

Them: “Shari, you’re so weird.”

Me: “Yea, well … at least I’m not normal.”

Thus begins the journey of a rogue writer.

And the phrase that I’ve been hearing my whole FREAKIN’ life. I finally realized that I prefer weird. Weird is better. At least it’s not normal.

*****************************************

Welcome to my new crazy blog, loyal followers! Where nothing is off-limits, and randomness is the doctrine. Yes, this is me, my quirky world straight from my weird mind. I hope you’re brave enough to stick around … and if you like what you see, share my posts with your friends.

If you’re reading this on email, please click through to my blog and visit the new layout. Check out the new “about” page, and tell me what you think (I’m really, really curious).

And do not fear!

I still plan to write about writing. It just won’t be a constant thing. Instead, get ready for:

  • Weird news
  • Occasional outbursts
  • Cat fiascoes
  • Thoughts about my fingernails
  • Seinfeld (I’m obssessed)
  • Anything else I deem relevant or important

So starting after this post, get ready for the new stuff. Get ready for the weirdness. Because I’m SO GLAD I’m not normal.

shari-lopatin

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UPDATE: Blog on short hiatus during transition

3 Dec

I hope you’re all doing well! This is a quick update on the status of my blog, which is currently going on a short hiatus.

I’m currently in the midst of a career transition (still within the writing and editing realm, no worries!), and therefore I’m taking a short break from blogging. Additionally, I plan on implementing a blog makeover, to include a new feel and direction; but I don’t want to begin anything until my new career path is more concrete.

To all the writers who follow me, fear not! I still plan to continue writing about writing, in some fashion. :-)

Therefore, in the meantime, I hope you all have a WONDERFUL holiday season—whatever you might celebrate. Life can get stressful this time of year, so please remember to take time for YOU, and enjoy spending time with your loved ones.

Happy Hanukkah, Merry Christmas, Happy Kwanzaa, Belated Happy Thanksgiving, have a great winter … and I’ll see you again soon!

museconfuse

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R.L. Stollar, Journalist.

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